


Willing Captive

by Rycolfan (Snarryeyes)



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarryeyes/pseuds/Rycolfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Helping Hands game in S11E10 and a prompt by siriusblack84. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Willing Captive

**Author's Note:**

> Purely a work of fiction. No offense intended to those portrayed herein.

“And cut! Great job, guys. Okay, let’s set up for Party Quirks.”

“Erm… a little help here?” 

Colin holds his hands up as best he can and jangles the cuffs still secured around both wrists—wrists that are currently wrapped around the solid warmth of Ryan’s midriff.

“I vote we leave them like that for the rest of the show,” Wayne calls from behind them, generating an appreciative laugh from the audience.

Colin sighs and lets his head drop forward onto Ryan’s jacket, ignoring the feel of damp sweat slowly seeping through the material.

“What’s up?” Ryan asks, the quiet rumble of his voice vibrating through his back to where Colin is resting. “You got a problem with being handcuffed to me?”

Colin snorts, despite the fact that the circulation is being steadily cut off to his hands because of the odd angle. “Not at all… I’d just prefer any kinky stuff to be kept away from a studio audience.”

“I seem to remember us doing a fair amount of kinky stuff in _front_ of a studio audience over the years.”

Colin can’t deny the truth of that, although none of those incidents involved being handcuffed to each other—not just _to_ each other, but _around_ each other. Helping Hands can be problematic at the best of times, with Colin pressed close enough to feel every curve of Ryan’s body, his nostrils filled with the scent of him, threatening to stir up inappropriate thoughts and feelings. Having no escape from that—denied the ability to put some space between them—is infinitely more dangerous. 

Of course, Ryan can always be counted on to make the situation worse. As the producers call Penn and Teller back in, presumably with the key, Ryan goes back into character and starts making a loud show of desperately needing to go to the bathroom, leaving Colin with no alternative but to grab him through his pants and hold him with a whispered, “Bastard.” He doesn’t need to see Ryan’s smirk to know it’s there.

It takes another five excruciating minutes, during which Penn and Teller make the key magically appear in an audience member’s pocket while Colin’s hands, arms, and back become progressively more cramped and painful, before he’s finally released. Busy rubbing his wrists and removing the jacket, he misses the short exchange between Ryan and Penn, but he’s sure nothing good can come from the mischievous gleam in Ryan’s eyes when he returns to his seat.

~~~

He’s put the game out of his mind when he goes to find Ryan later, having changed and freshened up. In fact, the only thought on his mind now is dinner—hours of games, intros, and pick-ups always leave him ravenous.

“Ryan?”

Colin knocks on the half-open dressing room door and steps inside. He doesn’t see Ryan behind the door until a soft snick alerts him to his presence, along with the cool touch of metal as handcuffs are once again secured around one of his wrists.

“What are you doing?” he asks in surprise.

“I’m finishing what we started earlier,” Ryan answers, smirking.

“We didn’t start anything!

“Well, I happen to know for a fact that one part of your anatomy wholeheartedly approved. Or did you have a gun pressed to my back.”

“I’ll bring a gun next time.”

Ryan laughs and yanks him forward, kicking the door shut. Pressed back against the door, his mouth plundered, Colin’s protest suddenly seems unimportant... at least until he feels metal enclose his other wrist.

“Ryan—“

“Shh,” Ryan kisses him quiet. “Trust me.”

“It seems I have little choice,” Colin answers wryly, although he can’t help smiling as Ryan lifts his cuffed hands and ducks beneath them so that they fall back down around his neck.

Grinning, Ryan kisses him again. “Is this better?”

“It has potential,” Colin concedes, trying to resist the urge to lean into the heat of his body.

Ryan’s eyes flash, his expression turning triumphant. “Oh, it does?”

Colin shuts him up by tugging him forward into a kiss, smirking as Ryan instantly pushes closer, his own enthusiasm evident. Colin drags his fingers through the hair at the nape of Ryan’s neck, making him shudder and push closer still.

“Jesus,” Ryan says breathlessly several minutes later, lips hovering millimeters from Colin’s, “you really are turned on by the cuffs.”

“I’ll let you into a little secret,” Colin replies, eyes sparkling. “It’s not the cuffs that turn me on.”

Ryan grins and kisses him again, sneaking a hand down to unfasten Colin’s pants. Sighing as the pressure is eased a little, Colin presses the hard heat against Ryan’s palm, shivering as long fingers wrap around him. He makes a small noise of protest as Ryan’s lips leave his, but then Ryan’s lanky frame is sliding down towards the floor, and before Colin’s brain can fully catch up, the fingers around his cock are joined by a deliciously warm mouth.

Biting on his lower lip, Colin’s cuffed hands land on Ryan’s hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he pushes into the inviting heat. Distantly he hears footsteps in the corridor outside and offers up a swift prayer that they’re not headed in their direction, because he’s not sure he can stop now even if he wanted to. Ryan’s sinfully skilled mouth is rendering everything else utterly irrelevant.

Sighing, Colin lets his eyes slip shut as his head falls back against the door with a dull thud. Everything is focused on the long fingers and dexterous tongue wrapped around him, coaxing waves of tingling pleasure, a mounting swell of sensation. Part of him wants more, wants all of Ryan wrapped around him, inside him, but right now he can do little against the sensory onslaught except cling on. There’ll be time for more later, in the comfort and security of his hotel room, where the scent of Ryan still lingers on the crumpled sheets and pillows from the night before. 

The pleasure builds and Colin has to bite his lip a little harder to keep quiet, tasting the metallic tang of blood as he breaks the skin. The filthy sounds coming from Ryan’s mouth is turning him on almost as much as the physical sensations lighting up every nerve, making his fingers tighten in Ryan’s curls. Ryan seems to take this as a cue to go all out, and he does, scrambling every thought in Colin’s brain except a steady mantra of, ‘ _Fuck_ ,’ and ‘ _Yes_.’

His hips start to move of their own accord then, thrusting forward into Ryan’s mouth with each stroke, searching for release. When the crest finally breaks, it leaves him shaking and breathless in its wake.

Ryan slides back up his body to steal his breath again, pressing the heat of his own jutting erection against Colin’s stomach as he maps his mouth. “Good?” he finally asks in the deep husky voice that Colin loves.

“Mmm-hmm,” Colin says, nipping Ryan’s lower lip with a seductive smile. “Uncuff me and I’ll show you just _how_ good.”

Ryan’s eyes gleam with promise as he shifts to comply. “Your wish is my command.”

Several minutes later, however, Colin is no closer to freedom and the thrill of their secret encounter is dwindling rapidly.

“Ryan,” he says calmly—far more calmly than he feels. “Please tell me you have the key.”

Ryan pats each pocket and then, just to be sure, turns each one inside out before looking back at Colin with a sheepish smile. 

“Oops?”


End file.
